The Anomie of the Nightmare Anew, a Living Hel [Skarnfel v. Aphros]

[GSM]

Talks abound of a moot being formed, a grand meeting of all of Meranthe's nations being forced together.
Skarnfel had been a malignant cancer, growing and growing until it could no longer be ignored.
While there was indeed a lull in the activity of the fel legion, it would not last.
The death of Enarath exacerbated the worsening symptoms; with a single casualty, the Demon Lord of the Fel Garden's slaying had worked the horde into an insurmountable frenzy.

To think the demons wouldn't act upon such an impulse while the rest of the world stared it down was a fool's errand.

The abyss began to warble and expand, the Shadowlands and its immediate surroundings overcome with darkness and despair.
Demons would attack more brazenly, almost suicidally, in a rage unseen before.
Undead would be raised by the sheer negative energy in the lands, adding to further tragedies.
Whereas one could assume this was a mere abnormality in their behavior, it would turn out to be anything but.
The skies themselves would blacken as color would be stripped, like flesh from bone.

He who would cast the first stone would aim it at the kin-slayers and hypocrites, one and all.

The demonic legion continued to rise, growing and changing in the Era of Change that Na'Ria had brought.
It was too late for things to quiet down, and innately, they knew this.
Where once the armies of the damned marched to seize the contents of the Aphrosian libraries, now they marched to purge it all in Helflame.
Those undeserving of Knowledge's blessing would be given no quarter.

The Demon King's soft voice graced those in Aphros, the Imperfect tapping the mass mind to awaken all within it, puncturing the mindspace like a nail driven through wood.
Even though the voice was soft, a forgotten wrath is seeped into their tongue, whispers of unnerving truth now serving as a herald to the End.
The End of Aphros was nigh.

---

"Hear me, sons of man.

You have taken what is mine, with what is merely a pawn upon your board; the Sainted Enclave can be your lapdogs all they wish, under duress of your false justice.

But I know your intentions, and I know your serpents' tongues, awash with gold.

This sin is upon your hands, and it is with this knowledge that I aim to sever them, one and all.

Fetid mortal minds such as yours must be plucked and destroyed, kin-slayer.

I fight on behalf of my Second Death, my beautiful Nightmare, as he prepares his ascension to Sainthood.

Apostles we stand, for we are the strongest of Meranthe;

YOU ARE NOTHING.

I will not rest until he awakens again, and if it is by the mass grave that I must supply his fuel, then so be it.

Those of you weak-of-heart, avert thine gaze and flee to the countless other cities where you would be welcomed.

Our goal now is the complete eradication of the Aphrosian scourge upon this land.

There will be no further communication until your mortal ilk are properly rendered harmless, and discarded as little more than an extinct land's species.

I will break the false idols you worship, for it is I who shepherds this world by mine whims.

Be not afraid.

Rejoice, sinners, for your reckoning will come swiftly."

Raid Objective: End Aphros

---

A single mention further is given.
The voice is continuously carried along psionic bursts of blackening Grey, only to meet a similar instance.
The Oracle would hear the voice of the Demon King, bridled with a fury beyond fury.
Yet, it was righteous; for it was the blessed of Change.

---

"Oracle.

My fellow Heretic, Lirael.

Your god of hypocrisy will be brought to their knees, your false Warden made into a true martyr by mine hand.

If you wish to stop me?

Then face me.

Don't worry.

I will come to you, once more."

Personal Objective: Break the Oracle

Date: TBD